


All in a Day's Work

by orphan_account



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She shot the bloody dog and she would do it a thousand times over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All in a Day's Work

She shot the bloody dog and she would do it a thousand times over. Not because she didn't like him—she adores him, truly; she is not made of stone.  
  
But it was never about the dog. There could very well come a day when she receives a mission file and opens it to be greeted by the unflattering passport photo of a former classmate, a fellow agent, a beloved family member. She won't ask any questions and her aim will be true, and afterwards she'll go home and type up her report on time, as per usual.  
  
For the mission. For the greater good. Because this is what she signed up for.  
  
Because if she stopped to think about the hows and whys of it all, she wouldn't be able to live with herself.

 

* * *

  
  
Eggsy, on the other hand, didn't shoot the dog, and he never will.  
  
It's nothing as simple as cowardice. His quicksilver reasoning is often undecipherable, his inherent kindness a double-edged sword which could one day lead them all to glory—or just as easily strike them dead. There is no telling; there never is with him.  
  
Eggsy's modus operandi goes as follows:

  1. find convenient cross,
  2. martyr self,
  3. fight tooth and nail to freedom,
  4. rinse and repeat.



Merlin seems to get a kick out of pairing them off: her brains and his heart, Oxford logic and Cockney rhyming slang, her steady gunhand and his steadier voice pouring reassurance into her ear, keeping her metaphorical feet on the ground whenever the physical ones are thousands of meters up high and she's precariously close to just squeezing her eyes shut and _screaming_.  
  
She's therefore quite shocked it took them close to four years to find themselves in their current predicament.  
  
“Drop it or I'll blow his fucking brains out,” wheezes their target, red in the face.  
  
Eggsy rolls his eyes.  
  
“Who even says that? This ain't that kind of movie, mate.”  
  
“I'M NOT KIDDING.”  
  
“And yet we're laughing our arses off,” Eggsy says, grinning even as their now positively apoplectic target shoves the barrel of his gun against his temple roughly.  
  
“Galahad, I need you to stop wriggling around like a fish out of water,” she tells him.  
  
“Oh, right, sorry 'bout that. Be a love and spare my spine, yeah?”  
  
“I'll certainly do my best.”  
  
“What are you doing?” the target demands.  
  
“Thanks, Roxy, you're a fuckin' star. Love ya.”  
  
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”  
  
“I love you, too,” she murmurs. “See you on the other side, Eggsy.”  
  
She aims.  
  
She breathes.  
  
She shoots her best friend straight through the neck.

 

* * *

 

The texts start rolling in approximately forty-two hours later, a little after two in the morning.

 

> _hows the benny moneypenny?????_

 

> _its funny bc u skyfalld me_

 

> _dat took me 2hrs pls appreciate attempt @ levity_

 

> _im so high rn u got no idea so. hiiiiiiiigh_

 

> _I no ur awake_

 

> _???_

 

> _???????_

 

> _NO T COOL_

 

> _aint ur fault darlin. i fucked up u got us out alive. wasn't kiddin u know. ur a fuckin star. dunno how u do it. other way round? u know id've gotten us both killed. IM FINE put the bevvy down & go to sleep u nutter_

 

It's funny; her hands didn't shake at all when she took the shot, nor while she was trying to keep him from choking to death on his own blood. They are shaking _now_ , so badly she couldn't text him back even if she had anything to say.  
  
But she's got nothing. She's not sorry. She loves him and he knows that. She won't be able to see him until she's done with her _benny_ , as he put it, and he knows that, too.  
  
He knows _her_.  
  
She climbs into bed and screams into her pillow until she feels the terrible weight in her chest start to dissolve.  
  
Then she sleeps.


End file.
